Yesterday I got to the Augur Inn, where I a) returned the penultimate Strangers in Paradise, b) cleaned the downstairs bathroom, removing paint spatters and glue which had been there since we moved in, cleaning the door, and putting the light fixture back up so that all that remains is scrubbing the floor and painting the door c) cleaned the railings in the deck, d) rewashed some windows, e) ran the loveseat cover Janice got through the laundry and hung it to dry as Zeek! bled all over it, f) started detailing the downstairs kitchen, g) scrubbed out the laundry room sink some more (it isn’t done), h) washed the exterior of the windows in the garage. Partway through my day Katie took me out for breakfast. It was yummy, and you can get steak and eggs at the Big 6 for $6.35.
About 3:30 I bailed and Paul drove me to the liquor store and I picked up beer, wine and vodka (the only mix I have is orange juice….) and helped me in with MORE boxes and some pictures (I left them in the garage) and then I spent a lovely four hours with Gail, Jerome’s mum, who’s a simply fascinating woman who has raised three simply splendid children, and whose brother Bruce wrote that Vancouver Map Book (before there were computers). This is a book which shows what Vancouver looked like in ten year increments and which lived next to my bed from the time I got it to the time I moved (of course I can’t find it, but I will when I’ve finished unpacking…)
Then I unpacked my new vacuum cleaner and I LOVE it. It’s a new Hoover canister and it does everything a vacuum cleaner should do and there’s only two attachments and it looks like a bug eyed alien and is bright orange. I vacuumed my apartment (well, not the bedroom, the bedroom is a disaster still) but the rest.
This morning I got up and washed the pot and pans I got at Ikea and made myself coffee and breakfast, and now I’m going to figure out when the first bus comes and then go over to the Augur Inn. Katie was going to take me to see Spiderman and Keith and Paul invited themselves along but that’s okay….
The weather has clouded over. There are many, many birds here, I could birdwatch all day. This morning I watched a hawk kill something.
Burnt and his new bride are probably honeymooning somewhere. I will get a full report on the wedding from LTGW on Monday, or so I hope. Men never remember the details women want to hear, unless they’re gay or making a heroic effort.
I have started reading Master and Commander. Stephen Maturin’s comments about thinking he was gonna die are very funny, and Jack Aubrey is the most admirable mixture of low cunning, high spirits and cluelessness that ever walked on the foredeck of any ship, real or imagined. Sigh, I can hardly wait for Pirates of the Caribbean III.
Paul has made revisions to the separation agreement (as have I) which I have not yet seen. He says he’s not putting the house on the market until the separation agreement is chopped, and also I shouldn’t have moved out because it’s costing a lot of money.
Uh…. I wasn’t thinking about money when I moved out. I was thinking about my sanity. I had a little hiatus there while I didn’t do much, but that had as much to do with the unbelievable YogSuggothian hor-ror of work as any other emotional background noise, and I was still going back to the house to clean rather more than I want to, because I am actually serious about getting the house sold.
I already know what’s going to happen. Paul will stall until the house selling season is over, then move back into the basement and rent the upstairs. He can do what he likes. I still own half the house and when the time comes to renegotiate the mortgage, he can buy me out and experience the joy of doubling the size of the mortgage on one income with a renter who may or may not work out. Even if housing prices plummet I will still be free. This is why I find what Paul’s doing so amusing. He keeps talking about money. He never talks about the emotional stuff, only about the inconvenience, and how the house which he spent many many hours complaining about has now majickally turned into a haven. I already got what I wanted. I have contemplated how I would feel if I lost every penny on the house. I would be plenty cheesed, but you know, life goes on. My spiritual advisor has lost just about everything, twice, in the last ten years, and all it’s done is make him a better person with a clearer understanding of what’s important. I should be so lucky as to have life events that did that for me!
I want to sell the house and get the best buck possible not because I am a raving acquisitive bitch, but because I want to have the wherewithal to help my children. Happy Mother’s Day, everybody.
Allegra, everyone should be so blessed as to have your insight, vision and clarity of thought. Also, good for you for remaining calm in all the adversity. Paul’s not even my husband and I’m really angry with him in your defense. Jim & I watched the excellent movie you recommended earlier “Broken Trail” with Robert Duvall et al. It ended suddenly without warning, then Jim informed me it was a 2 DVD movie — wew! Also, I saw black birds doing a very neat job of eating grubs from the grass in contrast to what the racoons are doing digging holes. Happy Mother’s Day.
Broken Trail rocks.
Is Paul doing what’s wrong? I dunno. Whose definition are we going to use? Is he doing what’s not in his best long term interest? That’s where it gets interesting. All I know is I have a roof, friends, job, family and beer in my fridge. The rest is… negotiable, variable, and not exactly predictable.
Happy mother’s day to YOU!!!! Non commercial plug… don’t forget to read my mother’s day sermon…
Perhaps Paul will see his own way to sanity, and I hope it will happen soon. You definitely had a more interesting and challenging Saturday than I did. I was in a word a layabout.
Your Mother’s Day sermon was the first of yours I attended. I was so proud. I am still. Happy Mother’s Day!
Jim and I finished “Broken Trail” and it was truly excellent. You know my grandfather did just what these men were doing in the Caribou of BC and into Oregon. It’s hard to believe so much could change in the course of one person’s lifetime. I see the pictures and hear the stories. My Mom was actually part of it as a child.
It’s great to be connected to the history. I gotta admit though, when I found out that toilet paper was originally called “therapeutic papers” I laughed my head off.
Lost my Grandpa in the ’90s (93 years old), wish I was around to ask him about some of the details. Jim and I were similarly struck when we finally realized what therapeutic papers were.